


Smoke

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Sex, Cigarettes, Committed Relationship, Declarations Of Love, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fix-It, Foot Massage, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Gay Sex, Getting Together, Gratuitous Smut, Habits, John Smells Fantastic, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, Love, M/M, Massage, Not Gay!, Nudity, Oral Sex, Orgasm, POV John Watson, Relationship(s), Rimming, Rude Sex!, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Seduction, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Sherlock's Mouth, Smoking, Sneaky Wank, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1240348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are living in 221 B still. John's happy to have his friend back but there is a bit of an issue with something Sherlock likes to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madamegoethe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madamegoethe/gifts).



> I had the loveliest conversation about my favorite bad habit. Don't lecture me on it, you won't ever change my mind. I love it nearly as much or possibly even more than I adore Ben. This is a stand-alone story.
> 
> Madamegoethe - I wrote this for you

 

John put up with a lot of things from his flatmate and best friend. Body parts in the fridge? Seriously? Still? The constant lack of food! How did that happen? Milk, that elusive and never lasting substance! Where did it go? These were annoying problems but generally solvable. That wasn’t the issue.

The real issue was Sherlock’s other hobbies. The drug use had fallen away once again. Sherlock had indulged sparingly while he was pretending to be dead, mostly out of loneliness and boredom. John didn’t approve so Sherlock had never taken the habit up again after the doctor had moved back in. No, the drugs weren’t the problem. The problem was the cigarettes.

Sherlock was a smoker. He had tried to quit several times in the past but always eventually returned to the habit. John tried to be a supportive friend, peeling extra patches off of Sherlock’s arm when he was working on a problem. Seriously, no one needed three at the same time and one time John came home from work to see Sherlock with six! John had needed to sit on Sherlock’s back to get them off before the detective left the flat. Sherlock would always storm away in a fit and leave 221 B, returning much later smelling of smoke.

John lectured Sherlock who ignored him. The doctor put his foot down and would not allow Sherlock to smoke in the flat so Sherlock smoked on the fire-escape instead, staring at John through the window challengingly as thick streams of smoke trickled passed those cupid bow lips. Sometimes John would curse and leave the room so he couldn’t see it. Sherlock was a prick!

John loved and hated Sherlock’s habit! It was unhealthy! It was annoying to be yelled at by people on the street whenever Sherlock lit a smoke in public. It was irritating to be turned out of taxis whenever Sherlock tried to smoke in the cab. It was devastating when the tall pale man lifted a long slim cylinder to his generous mouth and inhaled. When Sherlock did that, John struggled to keep from knocking Sherlock to the floor and simply having him.

John reminded himself he was NOT gay. There was nothing wrong with being gay. John’s sister was gay and it had never troubled him. As a doctor in the army he had come across scores of gay men and never once did it bother him anymore than it troubled him to be surrounded by heterosexual people. It just didn’t matter. No, knowing people were gay was not the same as being gay yourself. John wasn’t. He simply wasn’t. He dated women, voluptuous, curvaceous women, women with breasts and nicely rounded thighs. He loved women.

Then why did the sight of Sherlock’s lips, pursed and streaming with white smoke trouble him so much? Why did John rail over and over again over Sherlock’s habits? No one had ever made Sherlock stop doing something if he really felt like it and it was obvious the man liked to smoke. John didn’t own Sherlock or have any say in what the man did with his life.

Except that in a way he did. Sherlock listened to John a thousand times more than any other person, including Sherlock’s only brother, Mycroft. Sherlock ate with increased regularity, slept almost normal hours and was nicer to people in general because for years John had hounded him and Sherlock had listened. Sherlock was incapable of doing anything for fun unless John was with him. 

Things were such a mess now. The fiasco with Mary was over. The baby he’d thought was his had been safely born and adopted away; Mary disappeared forever by the shadow government whose very existence Mycroft protested. Now it was just John and Sherlock together again in 221 B. John had endured so many shocks in the last year he sometimes wondered why he hadn’t just cracked.

His best friend had come back to life.  
His fiancée turned out to be a lying, cuckolding assassin!  
Magnusson had targeted them and had died as a result.  
The child John had been expecting wasn’t even his! It was Mary’s ex-boyfriend’s, the one she’d dated for so long before she’d met John. He’d taken his daughter and disappeared back into suburbia.  
Moriarty was back.

It was because of the last fact that Sherlock smoked. John protested but not very hard. He did it out of habit. It was expected of him. He was a doctor and the habit was unhealthy. It was bad for Sherlock’s lungs, not that it seemed to slow him one bit. It smelled terrible except on Sherlock where it was transmuted into something soft and exotic, musky and rich. It yellowed your teeth, unless you were Sherlock, then your teeth gleamed invitingly behind those lush, plush, begging-for-a-kiss lips.

John shook his head and tried to stop thinking of Sherlock’s bad habit. Sherlock was a man grown and if he wanted to smoke then John couldn’t really stop him no matter how hard he glared. All that did was cause Sherlock to slip outside that damnable window, his legs half in the flat and knees spread wide to balance himself to smoke daringly at John. Each time Sherlock would give John a little half smile before inserting an unlit fag between his pursed lips. He took his time lighting it and his first drag was always obscene.

Sherlock didn’t just take a puff of his cigarette. No. He inhaled slowly, savoring the bitter burn of that first taste. Sherlock’s eyes would close and his head would fall back as he shook his raven curls a bit. It was almost pornographic and John would be trapped, unable to move as he watched the brilliant red of the cigarette’s burning tip make its way closer and closer to Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock would extract the cigarette and flick his tongue over his lower lip and inside the flat John would struggle to suppress an animal growl that fought to be released.

John was NOT gay! He wasn’t. Nobody knew what Sherlock was. John scrolled through his phone, desperately looking for a name, a number, an-anyone-at-all without a penis between their legs that he could hook up with tonight. He was a doctor; there were plenty of women out there who still thought that fact was incredibly sexy. Nothing! There had been nothing since Mary.

John went upstairs, ignoring Sherlock’s spread legs hanging inside the room as he went to change his clothes. He’d hit the bars tonight and see what he could find. He was flush now; he could even rent a room if he didn’t feel like bringing a pretty bird back to the flat. It was always awkward anyway, the walls were thin and John wasn’t absolutely sure Sherlock wasn’t taking notes in the hallway and charting the noises coming from John’s room on nights he was successful. Checking his wallet for condoms John pulled on his coat and left for the evening. Sherlock didn’t say a word.

What a waste of time. John clearly seemed too desperate. One woman after another rejected his advances so eventually he gave up and came home frustrated. When he opened the door to 221 B he was pleasantly surprised to find hot food on the table as Sherlock unpacked the take-away he’d obviously just returned with. The kettle was just finishing as well so John made them both a cup of tea. “Thanks.” He said to the detective. Sherlock simply sipped his tea slowly and ate his chicken Korma.

After they ate both men went to the living room to unwind in front of the telly. This late at night provided few offerings so for a laugh they watched the shopping channel and groused about the ridiculous things for sale, all pitched to buy as if you simply could not exist without it. Sherlock stood up to go have a smoke and John sat in his chair and watched.

Sherlock sat on the window, one leg still in the flat as he straddled the frame. Leaning back Sherlock looked unnaturally comfortable twisted around the pane. His head was in profile and John struggled once again not to growl when Sherlock fitted a slim long cigarette into his mouth and lit it. When his head fell back John could see Sherlock’s long pale neck in the moonlight. His slim chest rose and fell as he inhaled and those black curls bounced as he shook his head. That small shudder made his whole body tremble from head to toe for a fraction of a second and tonight John’s entire being reacted.

John sat there stunned and astounded as the slow attraction he had denied for so long raged through him. Sherlock exhaled his first breath and John could almost feel the vibration from the low satisfied moan that Sherlock released into the night. Standing up John walked up the stairs and locked his door behind him. He tried to be quiet but he wasn’t very successful because he moaned the second he leaned back against his door, his hand already deep between his own legs as his fist moved furiously.

Stumbling to his bed John buried his face into his pillow and panted, struggling to contain the groan of completion that shook him down to his toes. Lying there in his own mess John gasped for air and wondered what was wrong with him. How could something like someone’s bad habit be such a turn-on? It took a long time for him to recover enough to weakly push his clothing off and fall asleep naked after using a handful of tissues to clean up.

The next morning he was roused by a hand on his shoulder, “John, we have a case. Get up. I’ve got the kettle on.” John woke up blearily and automatically sat up. Sherlock was already gone but John realized that he was still totally naked and had spent the entire night on top of the covers. Sherlock had come into the room while John was completely naked, ass up and sleeping hard to shake John awake. A strange feeling roiled through John’s innards and it confused him. Ignoring the strangeness he went to have a fast shower and dressed quickly.

They were gone all day. The crime had unfolded in a tiny flat and ended up with John and Sherlock tracking a suspect through a variety of back gardens and two different abandoned buildings. By the time they caught the man John was hot, sweaty and needed another shower. Sherlock dithered back and forth as he went over the evidence, making John taxi back and forth with him between the crime scene and the Yard a half dozen times before they were through. In the end they were taken back to Baker Street by Mycroft. The three of them were wedged uncomfortably in back seat of the otherwise large vehicle that picked them up. Sherlock had sacrificed his dignity and sat in the middle so John didn’t have to squeeze up next to Mycroft but he needed to put his arm over John’s shoulder to fit. John appreciated the gesture and even patted Sherlock’s hand in thanks as they departed. John didn’t care much for Mycroft and didn’t want to have his legs pressed against him. Sherlock smiled.

John groaned appreciatively in the shower. Sherlock called through the door, “Don’t use up all the hot water, I need to wash too!” well there went John’s plans to have a quick wank under the water! Grumbling a bit John just washed up and got out quickly. Sherlock was waiting in the hallway wearing only his robe. He smiled at John as they passed each other by in the doorway. 

It didn’t take John long to dress and he was hungry now. Deciding that take-away was in order he went downstairs to look through their menus. As he passed the bathroom he heard an unmistakeable groan followed by obviously stifled pants for air. Sherlock was masturbating in the shower! John stopped moving entirely and listened. Another soft moan wafted out and Sherlock’s breaths became a little more frantic. John could hear Sherlock’s deep voice as he began to whimper quietly. Finally Sherlock was huffing out soft little ‘oh’s of ecstasy before a long muffled groan escaped.

Moving as quietly as he could John avoided all the squeaks in the staircase and ghosted his way back to his room. Shutting his door as if he’d never left John spent the rest of the night locked away, food forgotten as he masturbated over and over again to the memory of the sound of Sherlock coming.

The next morning John wanked one more time in the shower. He couldn’t help himself. He was a lot quieter than Sherlock and quicker as well. His cock felt overused and sensitive after and John hoped nothing happened that would throw him into overdrive like that again. He wasn’t a young man anymore.

John made a full English breakfast for both of them. He hadn’t eaten last night and he doubted that Sherlock had either. Sherlock sat at the table and read the paper while he ate, cleaning his plate for once and having two cups of tea. Even he seemed surprised when he looked down and found not a crumb remained. Shrugging Sherlock went to the fire escape and had his first smoke of the day. John sat in his chair and drank his tea with determination.

Sherlock put on the full show. He selected a smoke carefully and angled his head to light it. As soon as it caught he inhaled slowly, his high cheekbones highlighted as his cheeks caved slightly and his lips pursed perfectly. Those green-gold eyes slid shut and his head fell back, his curls the first to tremble as his body shook almost unnoticeably. When he exhaled John heard that soft moan again. He couldn’t watch. Turning on the television with determination John clicked around until he found something distracting to watch instead.

After a day of chores, various errands for Sherlock and a visit to The Yard the duo made it back to Baker Street after dinner. Angelo had once again brought them a candle and the pair of them had received many fond glances from the other regular diners. By the time they got home John was grouchy about it. John was not gay. He wasn’t gay. Nope, not at all! Women! That’s what John liked; hot sexy women with nice rounded behinds and full natural breasts and gorgeously curved bellies. That’s what turned John on, not skinny bone-racks who smoked and sported a penis! It was the scent of smoke that alerted John to Sherlock’s return. The detective went to his room and came back in his pajamas and robe, “John, rub my feet. I’ve got an ache.”

John sighed and went to the couch. Sherlock’s circulation was poor and his feet cramped up when it was particularly damp. John let Sherlock rest his feet on his lap and began to rub them one at a time. Sherlock melted into the couch and sighed happily. John carefully worked his way over Sherlock’s soles, between his toes, over each pad and arch and even over the tops until Sherlock was limp and nearly asleep. “Do my shoulders.” Sherlock flopped over and dropped his head in John’s lap, his body face down on the sofa and his head craned around so he could still see the television. John worked Sherlock’s narrow shoulders, unknotting one kink after another until Sherlock was snoring.

John carded his fingers through Sherlock’s curls and let his fingers trace over Sherlock’s neck. He allowed his hands to smooth over those narrow shoulders over and over again until Sherlock was pliant and so deeply asleep that even his snores stopped. John looked at Sherlock. He looked so innocent, so young. 

The sleeping man’s mouth was parted slightly and John ran a slow finger over Sherlock’s bottom lip without thinking. Sherlock’s tongue flickered out and John’s breath caught. Feeling like an intruder now John tried to move away gently but Sherlock’s voice, thick with sleep murmured, “Don’t go,” and he turned.

Sherlock’s eyes opened, heavy with sleep. John didn’t know what to do. Sherlock’s hand was on his arm and those long fingers were trailing slowly down until they got to John’s hand. Sherlock picked it up slowly and brought it to his mouth. Closing his eyes Sherlock seemed to drift off again except that he was rubbing his lower lip with the tips of John’s fingers. His tongue flickered out again and John watched as Sherlock slowly took John’s index finger into his mouth and sucked slowly.

Sherlock exhaled softly and ran his tongue along John’s finger carefully, exploring the digit. He pulled his head back and now John watched as two of his fingers slide into Sherlock’s hot wet mouth. Both of them moaned softly as his head began to move gently. Sherlock’s tongue was soft and teasing. He pressed it between John’s fingers, licked his way slowly everywhere and closed his lips tight around them to draw them out. John was breathing very hard now and his body had long since given up even the pretense of non-arousal.

Sherlock turned his head and nuzzled his face into John’s hip. He was biting gently at the material working his way one nip at a time over John’s belt until he got to the buckle. John didn’t move and didn’t say a word. Sherlock propped himself up on one elbow and used his other hand to undo John’s belt and pants. Tugging down the fly Sherlock urged John to raise his hips just enough for Sherlock to get his pants down around his hips. John didn’t protest.

Sherlock turned to look up at John for a long moment. John was completely erect and totally exposed now. He still hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t pulled away at all. Whatever Sherlock saw in John’s face was enough for him to give John a crooked smile before the man turned his head and lowered it.

The first feel of Sherlock’s mouth on his cock was one John never forgot. Sherlock was hot, slick and his tongue was wickedly talented. The dark haired man moaned as he took John in and the vibration of it had John arching his back and thrusting upward. Sherlock moved slowly, savoring each and every texture of John’s cock. He lapped over the glans; licking off the precum that gathered then Sherlock spent a long time playing over John’s frenulum before taking John completely into his mouth.

It was divine, perfect, everything a good blow job should be. Sherlock was amazing. He made John sigh and groan over and over again. When Sherlock wrapped his long hard fingers and began to stroke John got loud and Sherlock smiled. He reached out his other hand somehow and got John to tangle his fingers into Sherlock’s curls and John moaned as Sherlock encouraged him to direct the speed and intensity of what was happening.

It was the most incredible sexual experience of John’s life and he hadn’t expected it at all. Sherlock’s hips were rutting into the cushions and he was panting nearly as hard as John was. Suddenly Sherlock pulled away and stood up. He undid his pants in a flash and stepped out of them before straddling John. His cock was thick and heavy. Breathing hard Sherlock licked a wet strip across his own palm and took both their cocks in his hand. He leaned forward and braced himself on the back of the couch before rocking his hips. John’s head fell back and he moaned as the intense sensation of their hard cocks sliding against one another blew him away.

Sherlock kissed him. Their first kiss and it was hot, wet and messy. Sherlock sucked on John’s tongue the way he had just sucked on John’s cock. He was moaning and breathing in small little gasps. Sherlock pulled his head away and his cupid bow lips formed a delicious ‘o’ as he began to whimper. John’s cock throbbed and he began to rock his hips as well, encouraging Sherlock to go faster. Sherlock was getting loud now too and suddenly he gripped John’s shoulder hard. His hips rocked swiftly and John’s eyes nearly crossed as he felt a massive orgasm begin to curl low in his body. Sherlock arched over John and called out his name passionately as he began to come, his semen jetting over John’s jumper. John groaned deeply and joined Sherlock, his hips thrusting up raggedly as he came.

Sherlock slumped forward, his head resting on the cushion behind John’s head. He was breathing hard and it took a long time before he sat back onto John’s lap. His eyes were shining and he leaned forward and kissed John tenderly, “I’m going to head to bed John. I’ll see you in the morning.” He kissed John one more time, long and lingering before taking himself off of John’s lap. He picked up his pants and trousers and walked bare-assed back to his room, shutting the door behind him.

John sat on the couch for a while longer, his pants still around his hips and his jumper covered in cold come. He wasn’t sure what had just happened but the glow of the orgasm had yet to fade. He pulled himself together cautiously; removing the jumper by rolling the bottom up until the mess was contained before taking it off. Staggering up the stairs John stripped off the rest of his clothes and tumbled into bed to sleep until morning.

The next morning was filled with electricity. Each man moved around the other and you could almost hear the crackle of desire between the two of them. John had to go to work so he got himself ready. He was just about to leave when Sherlock came up to him. Tilting John’s head back Sherlock kissed him deeply, their tongues sliding hotly over one another. Sherlock reached down and cupped John’s behind firmly, “Hurry home.” he whispered before letting John go and disappearing into his bedroom.

John worked carefully that day. He got the floor nurse to double check his prescriptions and talked to HR about his schedule. He removed himself from the on-call list and only kept his normal schedule untouched. John almost drifted home afterward on a cloud of hazy desire and made it all the way to the door of their flat almost without realizing it.

Sherlock was on him the second he got through the door. “John.” he moaned. Sherlock began to peel John out of his clothing and John tugged Sherlock’s robe off. “My room John, I’ve been waiting.” John’s brain whited out and when he finally got a tiny bit of control he found they were already there and he was nearly naked. Sherlock’s pajamas had evaporated and soon they were both naked.

“Sherlock! Fuck. Why?” Sherlock pushed John back onto his bed and began to mouth his way over John’s body. John’s brain began to melt and his whole body burst into flame but he had to ask, “Sherlock?”

“This is what we should have done five years ago John. We’ve wasted all this time. You want me. I want you. I’m taking you.” Sherlock rolled John onto his belly and with no further warning buried his face in John’s ass.

“Oh my fucking god!” cried John in shock. Sherlock was moving so fast, they hadn’t even made out! John found himself spread wide, his anus being thoroughly licked and prodded by Sherlock’s insanely wicked tongue. No one had ever touched him there for anything but the most sober of medical exams. John had no idea how incredibly sexy it would feel to have someone’s tongue fuck his ass! Sherlock’s fingers joined his tongue and John was slowly teased open.

Sherlock moved so he was kneeling between John’s legs. “I’m going to fuck you John. Do you want to be on your back or on your stomach? I’ve read that it’s usually easier the first time on your front.” Sherlock had retrieved a bottle of lube and was slowly spreading it onto John, delving deep inside his freshly prepared body.

“I’m good.” husked John. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He was paralyzed with desire. “I’m ready.” He felt the blunt head of Sherlock’s cock push into him. Sherlock didn’t stop; he just entered John slowly, rocking his hips until he was buried deep. It burned for a second but John realized he wanted it. Acceptance made it easy and John breathed his way through the initial intrusion.

“John! Oh fuck is this good!” Sherlock settled himself on John’s back, his chin hooked over John’s shoulder as he began to thrust. “John. Fuck. Fuck….oh fuck…you’re so tight, so fucking perfect. John! You incredibly sexy little man!” Sherlock bit John’s shoulder and began to ride harder.

John was completely undone. He had a man’s cock in his ass and he was ready to come. Sherlock’s harsh breathing in his ear was almost more stimulus than John needed. He began to rock back into Sherlock and felt the long lean man begin to tremble, “Sherlock. Sherlock I’m gonna come. Sherlock!”

“John. Yes. Please. For me! Come for me. My John! My beautiful gorgeous amazing John! Yes. I’m coming! Oh! Oh John! Yes! Oh fucking Christ!” Sherlock bit John’s shoulder hard again, his hand wrapping around John’s cock to stroke fast and hard. John nearly shouted as both of them shook and rocked their way ecstatically through their bliss.

They lay together for a long time. Sherlock was curled against John’s back and he was stroking John’s arm slowly as they cooled and relaxed. Sherlock began kissing John’s back. “I’ve wanted you for a long time John. Years. The other day when we were on that case, you smelled….oh god John you smelled so good. Do you realize I made us spend the whole afternoon in a taxi just so I could keep smelling you?”

“I heard you wank in the shower.” confessed John.

Sherlock buried his face in John’s back and sounded almost embarrassed, “You did?”

“Yeah, it was the biggest turn on. I had to go wank in my room the rest of the night.” Both of them laughed softly and now Sherlock was nibbling on John’s back.

“I’ve listened to you wank at night. I couldn’t help myself. Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You’ve got the tightest little behind and your thighs had been making me crazy forever.” Sherlock’s hands were beginning to roam.

“My thighs?” Sherlock nodded into John’s back. “What’s so great about my thighs?”

“They’re strong. Perfectly shaped. I’ve dreamed about you wrapping your legs around me. John have none of your previous lovers ever explained this to you?” Sherlock moved away and pulled John onto his back before resuming his pose so he could begin to kiss John. “Let me list the things I find irresistible about you: the way you smell, the way you walk, the way you hold your teacup, your hands doing anything at all, your mouth! Fuck! That mouth! The breadth of your shoulders, the curve of your spine, the hardness of your body, that unbelievably sexy little stomach of yours, fuck! Your ass John! You have NO idea how incredibly sexy your ass is. I’ve only fucked it once but I’m telling you now I’m going to fuck it a lot.”

Sherlock was getting hard again and he ground his hip against John’s leg. “I’m not gay Sherlock.”

“Me either. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to fuck so I did.” Sherlock wasn’t gay? Really? John’s surprise obviously showed, “Mycroft is gay. I’m not. I’ve never been in an intimate relationship that lasted more than a few hours. I usually pick a woman up at a bar or club, take her to a hotel or her place and leave afterward. Sometimes I just want the relief but I’ve never wanted a relationship.”

“What about now?” Sherlock was beginning to suck on John’s neck and it made John moan. “What do you want now Sherlock?”

“You John, I want you all to myself. No more women. No other men. I want it to be no one else but you and me forever. That’s what I want.” Sherlock moved up and kissed John’s mouth hard, “You’re mine and I’m yours John. Forever. I’ve fallen in love with you; I have been in love with you for a very long time.”

John was astounded. Sherlock was sincere! John blinked and thought of his own feelings. Certainly everyone had assumed he and Sherlock were an item right from when they first met. John’s failed relationships always had something to do with Sherlock being too big a part of John’s life. Did John have feelings for Sherlock? Was he falling in love with this bizarre man?

John had been initially attracted to Sherlock but had supressed it. John never objected for more than a minute if Sherlock ruined his relationships. John did absolutely anything Sherlock needed him to do without question. John had killed for Sherlock, more than once. John had mourned for months after Sherlock had faked his death, it was the only reason he’d met Mary in the first place. She’d used his endless grief as a way in and it had worked. John then realized Sherlock had sacrificed himself for John too, many times. John realized that he was NOT falling in love with Sherlock and never would because it had happened so long ago that John was simply used to stuffing all his reactions away and hiding them. He loved Sherlock. He loved him. “I love you too Sherlock. I think I always have.”

Sherlock’s smile was huge and happy. He straddled John’s hips and leaned down for a joyful kiss. “Good. That’s good John.” He couldn’t stop smiling but began to rub his body against John’s. “I need you to take me John. Gently. I’ve never done this.”

Oh god! John and Sherlock rolled over and began to make love. They took it slow and easy, tasting each other everywhere. When John took Sherlock’s cock in his mouth for the first time he found that he really enjoyed the way it felt and tasted. The desperate moans from Sherlock were pleasing as well so John kept it up until Sherlock was gasping his name and trying to pull away. John moved up and kissed the moans from Sherlock’s lips. Kneeing Sherlock’s thighs wider John began to prepare him using the lube so helpfully provided by Sherlock.

Having his fingers in a man’s ass was not a new experience for Doctor John. Sinking them repeatedly into his lover was. One at a time he added more fingers until Sherlock was open enough to take him without fear of pain or damage. Slicking himself up heavily John leaned forward, “Talk it out.”

John began to push in and Sherlock began to speak, “Oh! You’re big. It feels strange, almost painful but not. Stretching! Oh it burns but it feels lovely too. Fuck, you’re thicker in the middle. Fuck! John! Was that my prostate? Oh GOD! John! Faster. Yes. That’s it. I think I’m good now. Harder, oh GOD please yes!” Sherlock was beginning to claw at John’s back, his deep rich voice now filled with lust and passion.

“It’s good Sherlock. So good. Wrap your legs around me baby, yeah, that’s good. Hang on. I want to go faster.” Sherlock complied and soon John found himself being tightly held and deeply kissed by the man he loved. John reached down and caressed Sherlock’s firm behind and realized all the women he’d similarly caressed had been seriously lacking in splendor. John kissed Sherlock back before saying, “I’m never going to fuck anyone but you Sherlock and you are NEVER going to fuck anyone but me. You are mine. I’m taking you all for myself.”

These words drove Sherlock mad. With a helpless cry he arched back and John felt Sherlock’s come pulse between them. John fucked Sherlock hard and fast until he was also coming, his whole body bucking and shuddering as Sherlock tried to stifle John’s cries with kisses.

They collapsed there together for a long time, sticky and smelling of sex. John was lazily content to allow Sherlock to draw on his back with his fingertips until he was recovered enough to roll away. Sherlock sighed with contentment and stretched like a cat. He got off the bed and strolled naked to his bedroom window. Pulling it open Sherlock straddled the frame and lit a cigarette. 

John moved so he could watch and this time he smiled as Sherlock’s head dropped back and that signature tremble shook him. John looked forward to replacing that smoke between Sherlock’s lips with his cock but he could wait a few minutes for his lover to finish. Sherlock’s hair was crazy and matted with sweat in places but the curls still bounced and the white smoke pouring off of Sherlock’s kiss swollen lips was gorgeous. John decided he could live with the cigarettes as long as he got to live with everything else. Their life was already perfect and no more changes were needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what I'm doing right now?


End file.
